Transformation
by HaloNoir
Summary: AU AWE story. James Norrington chooses a different side, his own.
1. Chapter 1

James Norrington sat in the gloomy captain's quarters of the Flying Dutchman. The ship lurched horrifically and James clutched the sides of the chair he was sat in. He ignored the rocking of the boat, too invested in his own problems. Elizabeth was in the brig. He wanted to go help her, but he knew that he needed to think this through. His eyes flickered across the soldiers keeping watch over the chest – they were, predictably, asleep against the walls. Elizabeth had told him that it was time to choose a side, and although he still considered himself part of the Navy, he knew that wasn't a side in its own right anymore. Not now, now that Beckett had twisted and distorted the service that James loved, to meet his own ends – the ends of the East India Company. He sighed again. So it came down to a straight choice: Beckett or Elizabeth. It seemed an obvious choice at first, but choosing Elizabeth meant abandoning his men and having to ingratiate himself with Sparrow. He shuddered at the thought. Looking up again, a third choice came to him. If he couldn't side with the Navy, which no longer existed, then he could create his own side. He rose from the throne like chair and walked, uncertainly, towards the chest. Checking the men were still asleep, he opened the lock, as quietly as he could – Mercer foolishly having left the key in the room with him. The heart lay there, much as it had those few weeks ago, but it seemed a sorrier sight somehow, barnacles falling off and oozing more than he remembered. He reached out a hand, but thought better of it – why risk Jones realizing something was wrong? James pulled his sword slowly from its scabbard, listening to the low whistle as it came free. Here he paused. Did he really want to do this? Before Swann had set sail for England he had told him that he had discovered what happens to he who stabs the heart. Did he want to spend his eternal life as the Captain of the Flying Dutchman? He faltered and lowered his sword. Before he could sheathe the sword again, Elizabeth's face came to his mind and strengthened his resolve, and before he could agonise about it any more, he plunged the sword tip into the heart.

Elizabeth sat with her head resting on a wooden pillar behind her. She was disturbed by Bootstrap Bill's words. Who would Will choose? Before losing the heart of Davy Jones she would have been confident that Will's love for her would win out, but now? Now she wasn't so sure. Their relationship had grown awkward recently; they either ignored each other, or tried too hard. She remembered Singapore, when they had reunited after the battle and after not knowing how to act for a moment he had put his arm around her waist and dragged her off – but it didn't seem like a genuine act of protectiveness, but rather what he perceived to be the right thing to do in that situation.

Then there was Jack. Since they had brought him back he had barely said two words to her, that wasn't an insult. She couldn't tell if he was punishing her or simply trying to move on. Elizabeth let out a wry laugh, earning her a dubious look from one of Sao Feng's men, less than a year ago she had had a wealthy suitor, an infatuated blacksmith and a flirty pirate – now what did she have?

With that, her thoughts rounded onto her first fiancé, and current captor. She couldn't blame him for keeping her locked up – she was a pirate, she thought with some smug satisfaction, but to say that her father had returned to England? That was a foolish lie to tell her – she knew Beckett had mercy for no man. Even so, there was the smallest of doubts in her mind, which told her that maybe he was telling the truth, for when had he ever lied to her? She realised, bitterly, that he was the only man not to have lied to her at some point. Before she could dwell on other men there was a loud screech from above. Elizabeth jumped to her feet, covering her ears from the frightful noise. Despite not being able to hear it, she could feel the sound ringing through her bones. It stopped. Cautiously she took her hands from her ears and looked around. Her men were fine. But what of Bootstrap? She moved over to the wall and found the man lying on the floor; she moved to help him up but was shocked by what she saw. Before her eyes the man stood up slowly, barnacles and starfish and all falling away, and the shreds of clothes he still had, melted like wax into cloth blue, white and gold. She gasped sharply. Bill Turner stood before her, not only a man resurrected but a man transformed. She knew these clothes, and looking outside to the guards she saw them, too, looking at their garb in wonderment. They were Navy uniforms.

**AN: I know this is massively AU, it is intended to be! Please R&R but no flames please, or comments about how this couldn't happen! Otherwise thanks for reading, the next chapter will be up tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth looked at the men walking around in their uniforms – what was happening? She noticed they were all moving upstairs, Bootstrap was let through by another sailor and together they all passed upstairs. None of them said a word as the crew of the Empress gazed on in awe. Once they had all gone the prisoners broke out into bursts of whispers and theories, but Elizabeth remained holding onto the bars, wishing desperately that she could get out somehow. There was another sound, the prisoners all listened with bated breath, and it was a scream this time – a man's scream. She called out helplessly "James!"

The Flying Dutchman dived beneath the water, shaking itself free of its uncomfortable adornments and wiping the slate clean. Away came the barnacles and the sea creatures and even the darkness of the wood. When the ship came to the surface the paint peeled back to reveal the true colours of the ship, blue and mahogany – the cannon ports gilded in silver. On the deck of the ship the Dutchman's captain lay, rejuvenated on the red decks of the ship, hand clutching the new red scar on his chest.

James Norrington stood, taking in his uniform. It was his old Naval uniform, gone was the garish mustard yellow, and back was the purity he had sorely missed. He looked around at the men who were advancing towards him and came back to reality. Reaching for his sword he swung it out before him, scaring off any would be challengers. He realized they were all dressed like he was, in various uniforms – ranging from the redcoats to the lieutenants.

"Stay back." He called to them and they immediately stepped backwards. This revelation caused him to falter somewhat, he hadn't been expecting them to do what he said. One of the men came forwards; he wore a lieutenant's uniform.

"Sir. We mean you no harm – we are simply a crew waiting orders from their captain." He spoke carefully to him, as if afraid of upsetting him. James lowered the sword – his mind began to make the connection now. Another thought occurred to him – where was Mercer? He patted his coat pockets frantically and was relieved when he found the key there. He beckoned over the soldier holding the chest. He had some grim desire to see it, to force himself to believe that this was really happening. The chest opened with a pop and lifting the lid he saw before him a beating, very bloody and very fresh heart. Feeling slightly ill he closed it again and took it from the man.

"Where are Beckett's men?" As his new crew led him below deck, James found himself checking for tentacles or other fishy attachments – but thankfully none were to be found. He looked around, they seemed to be in the brig, as they walked through different compartments James took off his hat, which was a hindrance below deck and carefully stooped beneath every beam. At last the crew stopped outside the largest of the cells, inside was a gaggle of very nervous looking pirates, Sao Feng's he remembered, and East India Company officers. At the front of the group though was Elizabeth Swann who seemed to have been having an altercation with Mercer, who was gripping her wrist tightly, though in their shock at seeing him they had frozen in position.

"James?" Elizabeth pulled her wrist away sharply, now meeting no resistance. She walked over to the bars with some trepidation, he looked different to her. His uniform was back to his Commodore's one, and the atrocious yellow was gone too. He seemed taller, more powerful and even more dashing than ever.

"Let her out." He commanded, and one of the redcoats swung open the door for her. Allegiance to her pirates was forgotten, mesmerised by the revival of a dear friend. She moved over to him and placed her hand on the side of his face. "What is happening James? Where is Davy Jones?" His new resolve seemed to weaken a moment before he raised his hand to hers and giving it a gentle squeeze he pulled it from him and dropped it. Turning to address Mercer too, he spoke,  
"I am Commodore Norrington, the Flying Dutchman is mine," he spoke in his low soft spoken voice and turning fully to Mercer and his men, "Davy Jones is gone. This ship will serve the Royal Navy," but before Mercer could gain false hope, "but never serve Cutler Beckett and his East India Company," his eyes moving from Mercer he looked over the soldiers, many had been Naval Officers like him once, "The rest of you have a choice to make, stay loyal to Beckett and remain in the brig with Mr Mercer, or rejoin the Royal Navy, as free men."

There was a long pause before two soldiers shuffled nervously forwards, he had known them, Murtogg and Mullroy was it? The larger one spoke out, shaking, "It would be an honour, sir, to serve under your command again." With that they both gave him a salute, and gradually they all got to their feet. He was proud of them – you can take the man from the Navy, but never the Navy from the man. He turned to Elizabeth again, she was still looking at him in a strange way, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. He offered his arm to her and ordering his men to let the soldiers out, he swept out with Elizabeth on his arm.


	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth wasn't entirely sure why she was clutching girlishly to James's arm, or why she was twittering away like an eejit. She cringed at feeling like she was sixteen again, infatuated with the heroic captain of Port Royal. But she wasn't, she reminded herself; lives were on the line – what a difference three years made. James hadn't really said anything to her, but they were being followed by his men, and James had always been a private man she reasoned. They came outside and she was surprised that it was still night, the stars were out in their full numbers, welcoming the return of an honourable captain, who would deliver them souls. James looked down at her, as she gazed up in wonder, even at World's End the stars hadn't shone so brightly, and it was hard to see on the glasslike sea, where sky met water.  
James felt his heart tighten slightly. He watched her eyes scanning the glittering horizon. Was it so wrong that he still, still after his rejection, so desperately wanted her to love him? She turned up towards him and smiled broadly. He reciprocated and led her over the Captain's quarters. He opened the doors and both were left stunned by the appearance of the room, no longer was it grimy and clammy – with walls covered in God only knows what. The ceiling seemed higher, the floors were shining cedar, the walls were painted in simple white and the windows had blue velvet curtains. He felt a slight stab of reminiscence; it was like his quarters aboard the Dauntless, if a little more grand. Forgetting his company he opened the floor to ceiling curtains that separated the room. Behind them were a small wooden bedside table and a large bed with sheets of white and blue and a frame of silver. He blushed at what Elizabeth would think, and quickly drew the curtain back around it. Elizabeth had seated herself on a settee and sat waiting for him to join her. Awkwardly he offered her a drink, which she rightfully declined; he hesitated before sitting down next to her. It was strange, he thought, when he had gone through his, ahem, "pirate" phase he would have had no difficulty talking to her, but now in his uniform he felt stifled. He began to talk to her telling her how he had decided it was time for the Royal Navy to fight back, and as he did so he stood again, pulling his wig from his head and placing it upon the hat stand, he untied his cravat and deposited it on the desk with his jacket. He turned back to Elizabeth and saw her looking back at him in awe, mouth open slightly. He couldn't help himself. He moved over to her and pulled her up to her feet. Not giving her time to understand what was happening he kissed her hard, pulling her flush against him, claiming as much of her as he could. When he finally let her go, she looked at him stunned and said simply:  
"You're a _pirate_."

**AN: OK folks, I know I seem to have picked up a lot of Willabeth shippers, but I'm afraid this started off as a Norribeth and it's gonna stay this way for a while. What I will do, however, is if I get enough reviews asking for it, I will split the story into two - one ending with Elizabeth and Will having their ending, and one for the Norribethers! If I get 10 reviews who are IN favour of me doing a Willabeth ending I'll go for it - so make sure you R&R please!**


	4. Chapter 4

Before the pair could disentangle themselves from their passionate embrace – his hands on her neck and the small of her back, and hers tangled into his shirt - a lieutenant barged in:

"Sir," but before he could get out his sentence he saw his captain and Elizabeth Swann in their passionate hold, and more importantly his Captain's death glare, "My apologies sir!" With that he scurried out of the room again. James suddenly felt very self-conscious about the way they had twisted themselves around each other, and wasn't entirely sure about how he should go about extracting himself. Elizabeth, too, seemed frozen.  
Elizabeth tried desperately to suppress her blushing. Pirate. Why had she said that? Why? It was completely untrue, one of the things she found attractive about James _was_ his clean shaven look, and entirely un-piratical appearance. The kiss had been entirely inappropriate, and she willed herself to stop thinking about it, and to feel angry at him for doing such a thing. But, the little girl in the back of her head said, that was a hell of a kiss. Well of course it was, but surely not as good as the ones she had had with Will, or even Jack. But then the one with Jack had been tainted somewhat by her betrayal, she thought to herself. And Will's, she had to admit, were always safe and romantic but never left her panting and clawing at the man. She flushed with embarrassment again, and tried looking any where other that James – somewhat difficult considering their close proximity.

There was a knock at the door, and they finally pulled away, both feeling the loss of contact more than they would care to admit.  
"Come in." James called authoritatively. The lieutenant reentered, and Elizabeth gasped and quickly rushed off behind the screen, hand to her mouth. James looked after her, puzzled – "women!" he thought. Turning his attention back to the soldier he asked what he wanted.

"We need a heading, sir. We were supposed to meet with the Endeavour this morning, but we weren't sure you wanted to keep that appointment…sir." The man spoke slowly, deliberately trying not to look towards where Elizabeth was hiding.

"What is your name, lieutenant?" James asked, idly, as he walked over to his large desk and perched on the edge.

"Bill Turner, sir," He replied, quickly - clearly nervous in the younger man's company.

Recognition flashed across James' face, that name sounded all too familiar to his liking, but dismissing it he reached a hand out towards him.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Lieutenant Turner, I assume you are willing to take on the mantle of first mate, at least temporarily?" But before he could elaborate on the man's duties their hands met and James reeled as images flashed in his mind: the ocean; Elizabeth screaming; the monster Turner had been, then he felt pain and a strange voice echoed in his head: "a touch o'destiny about 'im…" Then all went black.

**AN: OK folks, I know I seem to have picked up a lot of Willabeth shippers, but I'm afraid this started off as a Norribeth and it's gonna stay this way for a while. What I will do, however, is if I get enough reviews asking for it, I will split the story into two - one ending with Elizabeth and Will having their ending, and one for the Norribethers! If I get 10 reviews who are IN favour of me doing a Willabeth ending I'll go for it - so make sure you R&R please!**


	5. Chapter 5

James came to with his head in the lap of a very worried looking Elizabeth. On seeing him open his eyes she seemed to relax, though she still kept her hands supporting his head. After his initial disorientation, James couldn't help but feel stupid. Grown men weren't supposed to pass out, black out from manly pain but not girlish fainting fits. Elizabeth was looking worried. Had he missed something? He couldn't hear! He felt a surge of panic as he explained that he had gone deaf. Elizabeth looked sheepish and moved her hands. Oh.

"James, are you alright?" She asked, concernedly. She looked different James thought, since the few minutes since he had seen her last.   
"Yes," he croaked, good grief, he thought, this fainting was unpleasant business, "How long have I been out?"

"Almost two hours now," she spoke quietly, seeming tired, "We managed to drag you onto the bed but we had no idea what had happened to you."

James opened his mouth to talk but a loud croak erupted instead. Elizabeth sent the redcoat at the door to fetch water. She looked down on him, brushing the hair from his forehead tenderly.

"I know you think I'm coldhearted," he tried to protest but she waved him off, "but I do love you James," he looked at her incredulously, "Really. The problem is that I keep changing. I can't seem to stay the same for more than a few weeks at a time. When I chose Will," here James winced, "he was the man for me. Now I'm not so sure. A few weeks ago I was sure the only man for me was Jack Sparrow," she smiled wryly, "and then I killed him."

James looked at her, amazed at her sudden attack of brutal honesty. He waited a moment, to see if she would volunteer anything more, when she didn't he tried to prompt her, "So what are you saying, Elizabeth?"

She grimaced slightly, "I'm saying that you should bear with me – see what happens."

The door opened and his drink was brought in. The two of them sat in companionable silence for a good few minutes, James not feeling any inclination to move from his very comfortable spot, feeling that he had made some real headway in getting to know Elizabeth Swann.

Lieutenant Turner returned, and after many apologies for what could not possibly be his fault, he gladly accepted the invitation to be his temporary first mate. As James finally got to his feet, leaving Elizabeth feeling very naked, he missed the accusing glance that Turner gave his son's fiancée. She at least had the decency to look ashamed, if only for a moment. As James stretched his back, Elizabeth fetched his coat and wig, almost reluctantly handing them over – she liked the man beneath the façade.

With a bow James left her in his quarters. She sat on the edge of the bed, giggling slightly over the realization that James Norrington was the first man she had shared a bed with.

James straightened his cravat as he walked, always a step ahead of his lieutenant, as he debated what to do. If they went to the rendezvous point they would certainly be found out, and the advantage of surprise would be lost. But James couldn't help but think of the good men on Beckett's ship – good men who would surely return to his ranks if given the option. As competent as Turner surely was, it would be a great comfort to have Lt Groves at his side again, a trusted advisor, confidante and friend.

**AN: ****The shipper count is this, so far: 2 people have specifically asked for a Willabeth ending and 4 have asked for a Norribeth one. Keep voting people!**


	6. Chapter 6

He had made his decision. They would go to the meeting point. He barked out the orders, and watched in satisfaction as his men scurried around, doing his bidding. It felt good to be in control of a ship of his own again. His mind wandered back to his plan. They would go. James would explain to Beckett that they had been forced to destroy Davy Jones's heart when he had tried to take back the heart. Regrettably Mr Mercer had been caught in the cross fire and it had fallen to James to stab the heart. But of course Beckett should have no worries, after all James followed his orders well. It was imperative to keep Beckett and his men off of the Dutchman, James realized, he couldn't afford to let Beckett get his hands on his heart. He still wasn't sure what to do with Mercer, but he knew he had to keep him away from his master. He would need to find a moment to talk to Groves, he knew he was serving as the captain aboard the Endeavour, but hopefully he would agree to a slight demotion in exchange for regaining his honour.

Turner approached him, waiting respectfully for his captain to notice him. Bootstrap was amazed at the change that had come over the crew since the change of captain, and not just the physical changes. Everyone seemed much more disciplined, focused and even more respectful of each other. He watched the man before him, looking over the prow of the ship. He wasn't the sort of man he would usually have sailed with, but he was grateful for his fairness and injection of new life to the Dutchman. The Captain turned, seeing him.

"Mr Turner." He nodded his head in acknowledgment of his lieutenant.

"Commodore Norrington," Some of the crew had called him Captain, but this title seemed to please him more, as if it were an old friend, "We are approaching the meeting point."

James smiled and agreed with him. "Was there something else Lieutenant?"

There were in fact two other things that Bill wanted to put to him, but was unsure as to how he should broach the subjects, "Sir. You seemed to recognize my name when I introduced myself; I take it that you know my son? And if you know my son and I trust that you know that Elizabeth his wife to be?" He stammered out, James whirling around in rage.

"I know she is," he roared, the hurt in his eyes flickering for all to see, "I am the one who gave her to him!" Without another word, or allowing Bill to redeem himself, he strode back to his cabin where Elizabeth waited – perhaps to prove his point.

Closing the door behind him he ran a hand over his wig. He shouldn't have done that. Turner was out of line one part of his mind argued, maybe so, but he was right – the other chided. All thoughts of propriety were gone when he saw Elizabeth. She looked radiant. She was wearing a blue, corseted gown. It was nearly as beautiful as she was, he thought. She never would have gotten away with wearing such a dress in Port Royal – what made it simultaneously scandalous and breath-taking was that where the whale bones were stitched in, a different fabric had been laid over them, in a pale blue, underlining her fantastic hourglass shape. The dress was also off of her shoulders, and that combined with her long and loose hair made her look almost naked to his eyes.

Elizabeth let out a bell like laugh, startling him from his reverie.

"I take it you like it?" She teased him, eyes sparkling in that mischievous way that had been missing for so long. He had the urge to kiss her again, but instead gripped the handle of the door behind him, tightly.  
"It is rather, ahem," he stuttered and stammered, "fetching. If a little revealing. Where in God's name did you find it?" Elizabeth scowled at him moodily and muttered something about finding it in his wardrobe, but didn't push the matter. He was clearly distracted and she still had other things to ask.  
"So what's happening? Are we going to meet the others at Shipwreck Cove?" She asked curiously, despite her new found girlishness, brought on by the safety of being in James' protection, she refused to be brushed aside. James turned and smiled somewhat patronisingly at her.

"No, no. We're are meeting up with the Endeavour," At her fleeting look of doubt he explained, "I'm going to see if we can get some more good men on this ship. I also want to know what they have planned."

She acquiesced to his plan, but felt too afraid to ask any more. She knew he despised the things Beckett was doing and the way he ruined lives, but Beckett also offered an end to piracy – would he be able to resist that, she wondered? She hoped so, she dreaded the idea of having to choose a side. She stored that particular worry away for now, and in turn pressed James over another worry of hers.  
"James?"

"Hmm?" He half answered as he undid his cravat and sat down on the loveseat opposite her.

"What will happen to my men?"

James looked down guiltily, he hadn't forgotten about them, but she was sure not to like his decision. "Elizabeth, you know what I've always said," with this she crossed the few steps between them and sitting down next to him she placed her hand over his mouth.

"I know, I know "any man sailing under a pirate brand or a pirate flag will get what he deserves, a short drop and a sudden stop"" she spoke, mimicking his deep drawl, "But please James, they are _my_ men. Can't you make and exception?" Whilst James' mouth was closed, his eyebrows seemed to working overtime, to convey his annoyance and disapproval. She took her hand from his face, waiting for an answer.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth," she bowed her head in defeat, "But any man that I find with brands on their arms must be punished," he watched her and pity flooded him, "However, of course, if I am unable to find a brand then they may go free." Elizabeth snapped up her head and smiled coyly at him. She stood, excusing herself and made to leave the room, before she reached the door though, she spun on her heel and rushing back to him, she planted a kiss full on his mouth before leaving without another word. James sat back in shock. What had he gotten himself into?


	7. Chapter 7

There was a knock on the door. James turned his head and called the person in, infinitely weary of this day and wishing it would soon be over. One of his lieutenants stuck his head around the door, he wasn't sure what his name was, and informed him that the prisoners were ready to be inspected. Sighing, he checked that his uniform was all in place and put his tricorn back on. Duty calls.

The pirates had been assembled on the deck and were being lined up by various soldiers when James arrived. He could see Elizabeth arguing with one of the pirates and decided to start at the other end of the line, giving her as much time as he could. He drew up alongside the first of the pirates, he seemed to have some authority amongst the rabble and James patiently asked him if he could get the men to roll up their sleeves so that he might inspect their forearms. He complied and the action was repeated down the line. Silence descended on the men as the Commodore began his inspection. The first man had no tattoo, that was clear, nor did the next five or so. The seventh man had a suspiciously placed armband but James decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. So did the next two. His patience began to wear thin, but he managed to retain himself for Elizabeth's sake. Elizabeth was still arguing with the man and waving around a scrap of cloth in front of him – James ignored her, as did the pirate. The tenth man had a nasty, fresh looking burn on his left arm and James let him go. Finally he came to the eleventh, the chap Elizabeth had been arguing with. He was taken aback at his appearance, he was a large man, one whom James would not have liked his odds against in anything other than a fair fight or battle of wits. He proudly displayed his forearms; on both was the pirate brand. Elizabeth closed her eyes in defeat. James contemplated "not" seeing them, but before he could make a decision the man spoke:  
"Those are pirate brands, Commodore, just in case you had forgotten what they looked like. Unlike these cowards," he turned, snarling at the rest of Sao Feng's men, "I am proud to die for what I am; you have not the guts to do anything about it."

James nodded simply, bellowing to his men, "Set up the gallows." The man's face remained impassive, but James fancied who could see a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

Elizabeth seized his arm tightly, but he ignored her, telling Turner to set the other ten up in a dingy – they were free to go. The redcoats brought out a wooden stool and a thick rope. A sailor shimmied up the rigging, looping it over the branch of the mast and below one of his old Navy men tied it into a noose. The crew began to assemble, looking decidedly uncomfortable and fearful – James wondered just how many of _them_ had pirate brands? James freed himself from Elizabeth and walked over to wear the pirate was being held as they readied the noose.

"Any last requests?" James asked, knowing what sort of answer he would get. The man grinned at him and before James realized what he was doing, he spat at him – thankfully the gob of saliva hit only his boot.

"Fine then," he sighed, why did he always try to reason with them? "As a representative of the King, I find you guilty of piracy and sentence you to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul."

It had been a long time since James had himself given the order for execution – though not long enough. He walked back to Elizabeth and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He would have like for her to go back to his quarters, but he knew she would refuse. The pirate stepped onto the stool and one of the redcoats placed the noose around his neck. Turner had the unfortunate duty of performing the execution, and after a moment, looking for one last confirmation from his commander, kicked the stool out from underneath him. Elizabeth moaned and buried her head into his chest, clasping his hand tightly between hers. James lowered his eyes but he could still hear the choking of the man, even the sea seemed to have fallen silent. The moans and sound of thrashing continued. Realizing this could be a long death he pulled his hand free of Elizabeth once more and reached for his pistol, and looking the pirate in the eyes, he fired. Let none say that he was not merciful. James dropped the pistol to the deck and made for his cabin with Elizabeth – the shot still ringing over the sea.


	8. Chapter 8

Elizabeth sat, stunned, on the seat. She had managed not to cry. Just. But she didn't know what had shocked her most, the execution, the fact that James executed him or that James had shot him. She looked up as James approached, carrying two glasses. He sat down next to her and nudged her hand with one of the tumblers until she took it. Numbly she looked down, it was a brown liquid, and she looked up at him again.

"Rum?" She asked, almost hopefully.

He smiled tightly at her, "No. Something with a little more kick. Drink it down; it'll do you a world of good."

Despite the horror of what had just happened, she still trusted him and without more questioning, she tipped her head back and drained the lot of it down her throat. It burnt harshly and she found herself sputtering slightly. It did, indeed, have more kick than rum. James smiled at her, drinking his own more slowly.

"Elizabeth," he spoke softly trying to explain away her guilt, "There was nothing you could have done. You saved most of them – he had a death wish, it was his own fault, no one else's – particularly not _yours_." Elizabeth blinked dully at him. It crossed his mind that he perhaps shouldn't have given her quite so much whiskey; after all she was a good deal smaller than he was. But the words seemed to ease her suffering somewhat. She put the glass down with a heavy "thunk". She turned back to him.

"How could you do it though?" She questioned.

"Do what?"

"Shoot him? Wasn't he suffering enough?" She prodded, naively. James felt a flicker of resentment – why did she always expect the worse from him? Taking a deep breath to calm himself he explained.

"I didn't shoot him to cause him pain. I did it to put him out of his misery. A man can live for long minutes if he doesn't die immediately," He leant forwards and lifted her head up so that he could see her eyes "I did what I did as an act of mercy."

Elizabeth blinked strangely again, "I understand. I'm sorry that I even thought that you could be doing anything less than that," Her eyes seemed to be clouding over slightly and as James felt her leaning into his hand he tried to scooch away from her on the seat but could move no further. Just as she leant in to kiss him, again, she suddenly burst into tears, clutching at his jacket. He had definitely given her too much whisky.

After several minutes of erratic sobbing Elizabeth seemed to doze off, much to James's relief. Standing, he picked up her small frame and laid her on his bed. He wondered if he should loosen the corset but decided against anything that could make it come across as lecherous. It was just then that he realized that he had thrown his hat back into the ring. He was going to fight for her this time – William Turner had better watch out. With that he pulled the sheets over her and kissed her forehead lightly. He left her there to her sleep.

Out in the full sunshine his sailors were still scuttling around the place, following their first officer's lead. The grotesque corpse was no where to be seen, though several recoats were sloshing buckets of water over a dark stain on the wood. Looking over the horizon, he thought he spotted something. James pulled his spyglass from his pocket and took a look ahead of them. His eyes did not deceive him. Some five leagues or so away, the Endeavour waited. He helped his men around the riggings as he waited for the ships to meet, making sure that he remembered to send someone to feed Mercer.

An hour later the two magnificent ships drew alongside, and James couldn't help but feel a smug feeling of "my ship is better than yours". He instructed his men to keep the Dutchman just outside of boarding range; he didn't want anyone getting onto the ship that he didn't want there. He did however get a rope ready, the ship would move just out of range after he had swung aboard the Endeavour. Taking his jacket off, he debated whether or not to take it with him. Eventually his sense of decency won out and he tied it around his waist. He kept the wig on, but lost the hat – he didn't want it falling off. He climbed onto the ledge of the deck and took the rope that Turner offered him – it had been a while since he had done this. Not allowing himself to dwell on this, he leapt from the side and swung across the stretch of water. He made it, despite landing a little heavily on his landing. He let go of the rope as he felt the Dutchman move away. He pulled his jacket on, just as Groves came over, looking ridiculously sombre.  
"Lord Beckett requests to see both you and Jones immediately in his study." Groves spoke curtly, leaving James feeling a little hurt that their usual greetings had been dismissed. He followed the captain, not explaining where Jones was just yet. As they drew up to the doors, James tried breaking the silence.

"It's good to see you Theo, I trust Beckett is not treating you too badly?"

Groves stopped outside of the door, and just as he was about to open the door he murmured to his friend, "Well he's not capable of giving many _tall_ orders, is he?" With a twinkle in his eye he ushered the Commodore in and shut the door behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

Beckett sat at the table in the middle of the room, sipping a cup of tea – predictably. James bowed to him, before realizing there was another man sat with him.  
Beckett put down the teacup, "Good morning Admiral. I do believe you two know each other?" he spoke crisply, and the man sitting opposite him turned. It was none other than William Turner, the pirate/blacksmith extraordinaire; he smiled at James in a slightly too civilised manner, and gestured for him to sit. Feeling decidedly uneasy James took the chair in between the two, not speaking until Beckett spoke to him.

"As much as it is a pleasure to see _you_, Admiral, I'm afraid we were rather hoping for the captain of the Dutchman." He spoke in his patronising tone.

It was James' turn to smile, "I'm afraid, Lord Beckett, that Jones is no longer in control of the Dutchman." He poured himself a cup of tea and took a sip, leaving Beckett confused.

"May I ask then as to who is?"

"That would be me, Lord Beckett," he answered after dabbing at his mouth with a napkin; he was enjoying making Beckett squirm. Besides him, Will suddenly looked up, processing new information, "I must report, Lord Beckett, that tragically a few good men were lost trying to reign in Jones – including your Mr Mercer, I'm afraid." Beckett's face darkened slightly and his jaw muscles twitched.  
Beckett knew he was on dangerous ground. Without Mercer holding the chest ransom, Norrington was free to do as he wished. Knowing that he had to be careful not to push the Admiral either way, he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt – for now.

He changed the subject, and they discussed their plan of attack, William Turner had brought with him the compass of Jack Sparrow – which would lead them to the meeting of the Pirate Brethren. Will also informed them of Barbossa's mad plan to free Calypso, goddess of the sea. Of this last detail James felt sceptical, but then again he had indeed faced un-dead pirates and he himself was the immortal captain of a ship that ferried souls to heaven. James frowned, feeling a headache coming on. Beckett informed them of their heading, and just like that the meeting was over. James left quickly, hoping to be able to find Theodore before Beckett got his claws into him, but before he could escape completely, the junior Turner caught up with him.

"So it's true? You are the captain of the Flying Dutchman?" He asked, eliciting a scathing look from the older man, James felt annoyed – could Elizabeth have at least chosen a slightly sharper suitor?  
"Yes, Mr Turner I am. I assume you are enquiring as to your father's health?" James drawled, not slowing his gait, forcing the shorter man to half jog to keep up with him – cruel but fun.  
"He is still there then?" Will asked, looking for explicit confirmation.

"Yes. Very much so," James replied, catching a glimpse of what appeared to be his former first officer turning around a corner, "If you would excuse me, there is someone I would speak with." With that he left the younger man hanging and chased after his friend.

"Groves," he hissed, not wanting to attract too much attention "get back here!" Theo turned at his voice and willingly trotted back over to him.

"Are you alright sir? Beckett seems a mess after some news you'd given him, any chance you'll tell me what it is?" He asked. James thought of telling him the full story then but decided against it, not wanting to risk being caught.  
"You trust me, don't you?" He questioned his friend.

"Of course sir" He answered back, not quite sure where this line of conversation was leading.

"Not just as your superior, but as a friend?" James prodded, not wanting anything less than total allegiance.

"With my life," Groves answered back quickly, and added cheekily, "Sir."

James smiled at him, "Come with me. Back to the Flying Dutchman, quickly before we're missed – I'll tell you everything there."

Theo looked hesitant, conscious of the unforgiving nature of Lord Beckett. But given a choice he would rather upset the Lord than his Admiral. He nodded his head, "Let's go."

**AN: Well I hope you've enjoyed Groves so far, there'll be more of him so no worries. Please keep R&Ring - the more reviews I get, the quicker I write. Oh and thank you for pointing out that I got the quote wrong in chapter 6 - have fixed it now! The tally for the couples stands at a whopping 12 votes for Norribeth and a rather tragic 3 from the Willabeth corner. I am going to keep the voting going until I get to the end, so don't stop voting, it's not over til it's over!**


	10. Chapter 10

James landed on the deck of the Dutchman with a heavy thud, letting the heavy rope snake out of his hand and return to the Endeavour. James turned to watch Groves, for whom it had also, clearly, been a long time since using a rope. Unfortunately Groves' grace was not quite as great as James' and the man lost his footing once on the deck, tumbling back onto his tailbone and being dragged backwards on the deck by the rope – forgetting in the _melee_ to let go of it. Thankfully one of the crewmembers had the sense of mind to pull the rope from the officer before he got pulled over the side of the ship. James let out a dry chuckle as his friend got to his feet and sheepishly readjusted his wig, the hat having fallen off along the way.  
"Not a word." Theodore said sounding pained as he approached his commander. James pursed his lips and tried not to make contact with him, or any of the crewmen suppressing giggles around the deck.

"Any ways, I think you owe me an explanation for dragging me over here, don't you?" He added testily.

"Indeed I do." And as James helmed the ship he explained the atrocious things that Beckett had been doing, as if Groves didn't already know, the Dead Man's Chest, and killing Davy Jones. He explained with some difficulty his apparent immortality and saw the flash of temptation cross his friend's features – the cheeky bugger wanted to put that to the test!

He watched his friend's face as he spoke, unnerved slightly by his silence, but knowing that it was his way - to listen and only ask questions at the end. James realized as he finished that he had somehow omitted Elizabeth from the story, but he decided he would explain that later. Groves bit his lip, thinking carefully about what he was going to say, resting his weight onto the side of the boat, hands splayed wide across the gleaming wood.

"So what do you need from me?" He said, short and too the point, still looking over the seas.  
"Sail with me. Revive the Navy in all her glory." Groves smiled at his friend's sincerity – but his completely having missed the point.

"You don't need me for that. What do you want _me_ to do?" He asked again.

"You are good officer, a fine man and," James clapped him on the shoulder, "a true friend. Sail with me again as my first officer?"

Theodore smiled, "You realised that is, technically a demotion for me?" he teased his old friend before agreeing – the two men shaking hands on the matter.

James was pleased. Smiling, he led the man back down to the main deck and joked that Groves could have the honour of telling Lieutenant Turner that he had been replaced as his first act as first officer. They chatted amiably as they watched the Endeavour bank slightly to the starboard side, and drawing away from them.

"Have they not noticed I'm gone?" Theodore asked, somewhat put out.

James let out a deep laugh, "Beckett doesn't want to spend any longer than he has to with me - I suspect you're easily replaceable." James ribbed him.

James was in no hurry to set off just yet - they were capable of getting anywhere in the Caribbean in under three days. What really gnawed at James' consciousness was that he still hadn't decided on a final plan of action yet. He supposed he would have to talk to Groves and Elizabeth about that. A sailor came up to the two officers, it was Turner, and offered Theodore his, more than slightly wet, hat which some pitying crewman had fished out of the water. Theodore thanked him and Turner a returned to his tasks with a deferential bow. James was relieved that there were no apparent hard feelings.

Theodore was telling him about the latest situation in the English colonies, how a group of children – as young as six – had been hung on Beckett's orders, on the charge of associating with pirates. James shuddered, "how could the world have come to this?" he wondered as he gazed over the guard rail into the ocean. He thought longingly after the whisky that was in his cabin, but wouldn't dare to intrude on Elizabeth's sleep. As if on cue the captain's quarters doors swung open with a bang and Elizabeth still in her fantastic gown stumbled out into the daylight, looking bleary eyed and dazed by the sun. Theodore immediately whipped his head around, glaring accusingly at James. James merely shrugged helplessly, "She was on board at the time is all." Groves looked like he wanted to interrogate him further about what his friend thought he was doing with a rather saucily clad younger woman, whom James was most likely still very much in love with, in his cabin. Before anything more could be said Elizabeth made her way over to the men and exchanged stiff formalities with the new first officer. Elizabeth didn't really know a good deal about the man except that he had taken a disliking to her after she had humiliated his commander, and for that she couldn't blame him. She moved to lean on the guard rail on the other side of James and the three stood in silence for several minutes, alternating between gazing pensively into the horizon and shooting furtive glares at each other. Finally James suggested they convene in the cabin so that they could discuss what their plan of action would be. Elizabeth smiled in acquiescence and Groves gave a sharp nod. She slipped her small hand through his arm and he led her in – the action not missed by the keen eyed first officer. Theodore let out a cough that sounded an awful lot like tutting to James, and Elizabeth frowned in disapproval.

James sighed in annoyance, by all means this should have been a perfect scene for him, captaining the most powerful ship in the Caribbean with his trusted friend and the woman he loved at his side, and instead they were ignoring each other's presences and distinctly cooling the atmosphere. Bloody insubordinates, James thought, bloody women!

**AN: Just to remind you to keep R&Ring, and to keep voting for your pairing of choice, Norribethers are leading the way by miles so far! Also I would like to apologise for the delay in getting this up, my first A-Level exam kept me occupied though. Also I wrote this at 1 am so please forgive any mistakes!**


	11. Chapter 11

Elizabeth stormed out of the room with a barely restrained screech and a slam of the door. Wincing, James made as if to follow her but decided against it – she was liable to kill him in one of her infamous rages. Turning back to the small table and picking up the knocked over chair on his way, he sat back down again, refusing to look Theodore in the eye for he knows that his first mate will see only hilarity in this situation. Reaching for the bottle of whisky he motioned for Groves to carry on talking.

"How dare he!" Elizabeth seethed under her breath. Now that she was alone on the deck she felt a trifle foolish – something she would never concede to the men in the Captain's quarters. The three had been trying to work out between them what should be done, no easy task for James when Groves and Elizabeth were involved. She had stuck fast to her resolution that they must go to Shipwreck Cove and convene with Jack and the other pirate brethren – an idea the other two (unsurprisingly) had not taken to. Groves had wanted to return to Port Royal and incite rebellion in the ranks of the Navy men still there: he was convinced that once they saw their much loved commander restored in all his glory; they would be willing to overthrow Beckett. James' view lay somewhere in the middle, and Elizabeth had been sure that she was winning him over when he asked her to leave the two men alone for a bit – damn him, she thought.

There was no one on deck apart from a few men on the dogwatch shift, up on poopdeck. She was still dressed in her new dress but it failed to deter her from what she was going to do next. Throwing one last glance back towards the doors of James' quarters, through which she could see the uneven candlelight flickering against the window, she moved towards the mainmast.

Almost an hour had passed and the two men were no closer to resolving the discussion. James could see the merit and the attraction in what Theo was proposing, but that could be done after Shipwreck Cove though, couldn't it? He couldn't help but feel they should attempt to carry out both plans, only do Elizabeth's first – but he was afraid of telling Theo this, for fear of emasculating him.

He had started to worry about Elizabeth but didn't want to say anything, for fear of annoying his second in command. Absently, James tapped his foot on the deck as the other man once again argued for returning to Port Royal. Elizabeth wouldn't do anything rash, he thought, would she? She was known amongst the society elite for being well tempered and well spoken, but amongst her closer friends and family she was a known hellcat whom it would be wise to avoid if you got on the wrong side of her. He was pulled from his thoughts by Groves slamming his tumbler down on the table.

"For love of God James, just go and check on her," Theo said, tersely, "You're clearly not listening to me and suspect you won't 'til you manage to get her to forgive you for whatever it is that she thinks you have done wrong this time."

James stalled, dumbfounded, "Of course I'm listening to you, what made you think I wasn't?"

Groves bit down a laugh and retorted, "Because you have been tapping your foot increasingly louder for the last ten minutes and you didn't hear me tell you that I was about to throw myself to the sharks."

The older man's eyebrows knitted in confusion: "Oh."

The two men stepped out into the cool night air, brandishing their lanterns and inhaling the salt air deeply, before they split up to find the missing woman. None of the men on the poopdeck had seen her, and it was only when they met back where they had started, with no sign of her, that they began to worry. James began to panic quickly whilst Theo managed to reign his concern in, and it was thanks to his rational thinking that it occurred to him to call up to the crow's nest.

"Ahoy up there! Would there be any sign of a Swann in the crow's nest?" He hollered up, hoping to ease his friend's mood with his humour. A moment passed before the call came back down.

"There may be." A feminine voice shouted back, greeted by gruff, relieved laughter from the two men. After all, neither had really been concerned - not really.

Theo quickly volunteered to scale the rigging to bring her back down, or at the least check that she could make it back down safely – this was met with derision from James:

"As much as I trust you, Theo, do you honestly expect me to believe that you won't take the first opportunity to shove her into the ocean?" The captain drawled.

Theo reacted, mock aghast: "Me?" They had a conspiratorial snigger – knowing full well that Elizabeth would hear their laughter, wondering what they were up to.

"What are you two _gentlemen_ up to down there?" The voice came tentatively through the dark, just as they had known it would.

Before James could dissuade him, or in fact tackle him (which would be the more likely scenario), Theo had shrugged off his jacket and was climbing the rigging. Theo knew that, as passionately James' felt for Elizabeth, he would not risk bringing down the crow's nest by squeezing in with the two of them. His progress up the rigging was slow and laborious, it having been longer than he'd care to admit since he had done this. The higher he climbed the colder it got and he regretted leaving his jacket behind. At last he reached the top and found small hands helping to pull him into the nest, before they collapsed to the floor, their legs hanging through the bars. There they sat for what seemed like several minutes, but must have only been seconds (as no worried call came from below), in silence. Theo's eyes strained to take in the shape of Miss Swann: a dark object on a darker horizon.

"Why did you come up here?" She spoke so quietly that he nearly lost the words in the sea wind.

"To check you were alright."

"Why do I highly doubt that, Mr Groves?" These words were sharper and he heard them more clearly. He thought carefully about his answer.

"Honestly Miss Swann, I have no intention of being one of the men who fall head over heels for you, neither do I want to be your protector," he bit back, before softening, "but, as hard as it may be for you to believe, I don't particularly wish any harm, at least physical harm," he added wryly, "to come to you. Particularly since James holds you so dear – even after the hurtful hand you dealt him." The truth came out.

Elizabeth turned to face him, and he could just about make out her surprised expression, illuminated by the faint light of the lanterns on the deck below.

Elizabeth couldn't help but find Groves' honesty refreshing. He was the first person to have spoken about her betrayal of James. Her father had skirted nervously around the topic, Will didn't seem to care in the slightest and Gillette – the annoying Frenchman – had merely snarked at her every time he saw her. As for James' himself, he was the least likely to talk of it. The only person who had come close was the unlikely candidate of Mr Jack Sparrow.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," she spoke softly, leaning closer to the man, pouring out her secret, "I just didn't feel anything for him, more than friendship, in that particular moment in time."

Groves could see her bite her lower lip and saw the way her eyelashes fluttered against the tops of her cheekbones, holding back tears. Theo, despite himself couldn't help but grudgingly admit that sadness became her.

Reluctantly he prodded her on, "And now? In this particular moment in time?"

She let out what seemed to be a choked laugh, "Therein lies the irony. I cannot be sure, but I cannot now deny my heart was glad when I saw him again – particularly after chose his side. And I can confide, in you, that my heart," here she hesitated "may no longer be so attached to William Turner."

Elizabeth shivered from the cold and Theo again lamented leaving his coat below.

"I beg of you, tell him this, let him know where he stands – that he may, after all, have a chance - otherwise you may be the death of him," he paused, not wanting to overstep his line, "He does love you, you know that don't you? He loves you like he loves the sea – and that is high praise indeed." Elizabeth cocked her head thoughtfully as she turned her gaze back to the ocean. He felt he had fulfilled his duty as James' friend and stood, holding a hand out, asking her to follow, "Come, it is time to return below."

"Thank you Theodore."

She seized his hand gratefully and they began the long descent together.

**AN: Thanks for reading, and I apologise if it seems too much like a filler chapter, but it was really hard to write. Please comment, since thats the only way I can tell what I'm doing right and, likewise, what I'm doing that you'd rather I didn't! Another big thanks to everyone for persevering with me! I'd also like to ask if you would like to see (snarky) Gilette at somepoint?**

**For those of you who like my writing, could I point you in the direction of my other fics? They are mainly norribeth pieces but you may find something you like!**


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